


parallel universe

by fromthemoon



Series: in perfect harmony [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pain, Songfic, fire metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthemoon/pseuds/fromthemoon
Summary: Sometimes he wishes that maybe in another world, he hadn’t let the fire consume him whole.





	parallel universe

**Author's Note:**

> [he was my brightest star](https://youtu.be/ZUewZ-z4OmY)   
> 

_ It doesn’t seem to make sense _

_ Everything was going well _

-

 

Winter was one of the most uncomfortable parts of a year, the constant cold always keeping toes and fingers frozen, clothes layered and layered until the warmth hit you. It wasn’t that Keji hated the season, to be particularly honest, it was his favorite out of all. His birthday falling on the first week of December, along with the joy brought by the incoming holiday season and new year celebrations. One wouldn’t expect him to hold sentiments towards things such as getting gifts and giving them out, having an excuse to wrap himself in his thick blanket, or getting together with loved ones for the season.

 

Keiji’s love for the season started out in his younger years, younger and older  cousins always bringing him out to enjoy the snow falling from the pale clouds and treetops, his mother reeling him in their kitchen to make onigiri and pastries for their family, and the western Christmas tunes he never could get out of his head. As the time and seasons continued to pass, him and his cousins had grown out of playing in the ice, his mother too busy to even step foot inside the kitchen, but Keiji never outgrew singing songs where no one could hear.

 

Winter with the Fukurodani Volleyball Club was a whole other story from his family’s winter. Bunches and bunches of snowballs thrown at each other in attempts to make a season-long war out of it, peaceful walking and hiding interrupted by shouts of  _ HA! One point to us!  _ And constant whines from those victimized by the snowball shooters. Keiji had always been the one to be targeted, but never truly been hit.

 

It was during one cold night where Keiji felt homesick. It was the first day of December, an end to the club’s last full practice before the winter break and the start of days filled with team bonding and celebrating the holidays together. Walking out of gates of the campus, bundled up in his coat and scarf, he lets out a small sigh just to see the air visible from the low temperature.  The almost unseen sun was setting down to the ice, and it was the perfect time for a walk home.

 

Dragging his feet to the direction of his house, Keiji started to savor the peace and quiet of his surroundings. Serenity was something he craved after a long day of exhaustion from socializing. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the interaction with friends and co-members of the volleyball club, but it was more so that even though it validated his abilities in conversation, the draining of his energy from it all set off his nerves. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to talk with people, it was that he couldn’t do it as much as he wanted.

 

Looking down at the semi-thick layer of snow burying his shoes a few centimeters in, mesmerized by his own footsteps, Keiji hadn’t noticed the second set of feet beside his, until a touch brushed his arm. On normal days, Keiji wouldn’t say this particular person’s touch was something similar to gentle, rather, it was always the opposite. Always the harshest slap on the back, the intense grip on forearms and wrists, or the earthquake inducing shoulder shaking. Unlike serenity, this was something he’d rather not cross paths with, but fate, as always plans one step ahead of him.

 

He turns to the newcomer, a small sigh following the turn of his head. “Yes, Bokuto-san?”

 

He’s responded to with a soft, short hum, a bright and genuine smile resting on the lips of the Fukurodani captain. His hands are shoved into the pocket of his hoodie, his right foot kicking up stray snowballs on the ground. He speaks about wanting to walk Keiji home, how Keiji should invite him for dinner again because the last time he did, it was probably the best ending of his day.

 

Before Keiji can even make a sound of approval, Bokuto grabs his hand and breaks his serenity, replacing it with a loud disruptive force. He lets himself be pulled into Bokuto’s gravity, running through the paths of snow on his way home. There’s laughs and smiles and everything that drains Keiji out, but he doesn’t seem to mind it, because it’s Bokuto.

 

His winter as a child, filled with the brightest and loudest parts of his whole life, all twinkling lights and never-ending love with his family that faded over time passing. His winter in his teenage years, all filled with a collection of the shining stars that make up the whole of Fukurodani Volleyball Club, every single moment passing never a dull one.

 

Winter with Bokuto at Keiji’s side makes up for the cold atmosphere surrounding him, makes up for the loss of life in his home, winter with Bokuto’s smile at the end of the day had always lifted up his spirits. It was in these moments that maybe, just maybe, the season wasn’t so bad after all.

 

-

_ Guess that was just the surface _

_ Underneath I couldn’t tell _

-

 

“You can’t keep doing this to me, to us.”

 

Keiji stares at the window of the kitchen. There’s not much of a view, except for the dimly lit space of a small garden where bundles of ice gathered on the ground. He can feel his heartbeat quickening, a dull ache beginning to form in his chest. It’s in the middle of winter, the heater within his house losing to the battle with the cold.

 

It’s eerily quiet, the only sound prominent besides the low hum of the heater being the dripping water hitting metal. Ten years ago, if Keiji were put in the same place, he’d be relieved and at peace, the empty atmosphere being his only companion. But it’s different now, when the silence is someone he no longer calls a friend, but a stranger.

 

“We aren’t in high school anymore, Keiji.”

 

And it stings. The words echo through and bounces off the walls of their home, filling the emptiness with venom and poison, two things Keiji never thought to hear and feel, two things dripping from Koutarou’s words. It pains him, it makes him shut his eyes close to avoid feeling the stinging coming up in his eyes, to avoid the dull ache forming into something like a sharp knife twisting through his chest.

 

“What do you want me to do?” 

 

He hears his own voice in his head, calm and small, unlike the chaos and panic overloading his mind. It’s a funny thing how easily he makes people believe that he’s calm and collected at all times, but this isn’t just anybody talking to him. It’s Koutarou, the person who knows him like the back of his hand, and Koutarou can see right through him, right through his lies and all the hiding he does. With him, there’s no known escape.

 

Koutarou looks at him with the blankest face, devoid of any other emotion, breaking Keiji’s heart. It’s one thing to have the love of his life in a state where he can only feel sadness, but to have him in a state of nothing, no feeling in his eyes. Keiji knows, that even if he searches through the deepest corners of Koutarou’s amber eyes, he won’t find the fire behind them blazing up. 

 

Keiji looks back towards the window, bits of snow flowing through the empty space. Somehow, he feels as though winter has a personal issue against him. He feels a bitter taste in his throat, a dry laugh for the misery he’s in.

 

Sometimes he wishes winter never came.

 

-

_ He was my brightest star _

_ In the night I couldn’t ignore _

-

 

As warm as the nights were, the edges of summer and beginnings of fall merging into one another, the cold never seemed to leave Keiji’s orbit. It was always surrounding him, whether it be through the atmosphere or through the emotions he went through everyday, it was always cold and unsettling. Except for when Bokuto makes his way beside him.

 

One particular night Keiji can’t forget is one from the midst of his teenage years, a memory so vivid and clear that every time he thinks about it, it’s as if he’s reliving the same moment. Feeling like he was standing in the same place as he did back then, worrying about his academics and competitions and tournaments, worrying about the approaching seasons, thinking about the future ahead of him.

 

A part of him wishes it could still be as simple as that, not having to worry about what direction his life was going to be heading, not having to worry or overthink a single thing about his relationship towards his family and friends. His wishes that he hadn’t grown up, sometimes, wishes to live in that single moment possible for the rest of his life, if he could.

 

It starts out like any other summer day, waking up three minutes before his alarm and the usual morning routine of shutting it off and sleeping in for as long as he can. The summer heat is bearable, but understandable as fall approaches soon. Being the last days of August, Keiji has no plans except to enjoy the last remaining days of his free time by sleeping, and maybe catching the fireworks festival with his teammates at night. _Summertime bonding!_ He hears Bokuto say in his head.

 

The hours pass by, showers aken, food eaten, and he settles on resting for a few minutes before he hears someone vigorously pressing on his house’s doorbell. He opens the door to a Bokuto dressed in a grey yukata, wide smiles and explosive energy. Before he even knows it, Keiji’s pulled to the outdoors, dressed in his own brown yukata and the cold around his existing atmosphere melting with every single second spent with Bokuto.

 

As the night grows quieter and quieter, starting with the chaotic nature surrounding the volleyball boys, running around the streets and spending money on every single street food their eyes caught sight of, until the very few moments where one by one they parted ways and it was only the captain and his vice-captain remaining.

 

Walking through the vacant side of the area, Bokuto hummed songs as they await the last round of fireworks for the night before they go their separate ways. Keiji looks up to the skies, not so much clear as he’d like it to be, but not so crowded that the visibility of the stars in the sky was almost nothing. He admires the faded constellations with a hint of a smile on his lips.

 

There’s nothing particularly special about that one summer night, where the slightest bit of cold from Keiji always contrasted with the warmth radiating from Bokuto. Nothing particularly special about the way they just stood there, both admiring the stars in a quiet way, the only thing making sound being the faint sounds of celebration from the crowded streets, the exploding fireworks, and the hearts threatening to make their way out of both of their chests.

 

But maybe there is something special in the way Bokuto smiles at him, in the way he pleaded softly to Keiji, to stay for a short while with him, just to end the day the best way Bokuto can think of. Maybe, there was something special in the way Keiji saw the stars clearer in Bokuto’s eyes than in the dark blue sky resting above them.

 

Maybe there was something special in the way that Akaashi Keiji felt like he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the boy brighter than the stars standing right beside him.

 

-

_ He takes the lead and I follow _

_ Aimlessly I follow _

-

 

Koutarou’s warmth was comfortable. Every second spent with him, beside him, are moments filled with wholesome heat rising to Keiji’s cheeks. Being a person constantly surrounded by the cold, having someone to hold that was as warm as Koutarou was the biggest relief.

 

Growing up with the Fukurodani ace was an adventure that slowly, but surely, melted away Keiji and his walls. The ice that surrounded him and his life, inch by inch, disappearing and melting from every single touch the two of them shared. It was a sensation so pleasant, something relieving and comforting to Keiji.

 

Until the moment it wasn’t.

 

From the softest hints of warmth that flooded Keiji’s senses, it always seemed to be the greatest idea to let him in, to allow Koutarou to contrast the cold that resided in Keiji’s gravity. There was no harm in letting him in, no harm in letting such a kind and generous person become the reason why Keiji embraced the world, there was no harm in making Koutarou his only world that mattered. And so, he blindly followed the low flame settling in his heart.

 

The softest hints became searing touches, the most pleasing burn that electrocuted Keiji’s bland life. It was a thrill he never thought he would be seeking, a thrill he never knew he had secretly been craving after all this time. It was exciting, to be in a position where Keiji was figuring himself out in all the right ways and having his own little thrill right beside him, giving him the much needed spark he asked for every single time.

 

The low flame transitioned into something bigger, but not something that would set off alarms, just a flame big enough to induce sparks here and there, to have smallest balls of fire flying off into the distance, and every single dance of the ever-growing fire enchanted Keiji. Like a moth mesmerized by the flame of a lamp, he followed and drew himself closer and closer.

 

And then came the burning, a much louder and bigger sensation than the little bits of searing he got from Koutarou. It became a wild thing, almost dangerous and a gigantic risk in Keiji’s life. The fire that kept blazing, he followed blindly. It was like staring into the sun directly for hours, being aware of what he’s doing but never stopping because of the curiosity. The growing fire became a flaw in his well-calculated plans, something that disrupted the gentle and smooth flow of his life.

 

Koutarou was not the one to blame, no, it was all Keiji’s to shoulder. Koutarou never asked to be the center of his life, never asked to be the person Keiji’s plans and whole existence revolved around, no, he only asked for Keiji to be there with him. Only asked for Keiji and a little bit of love to spare for him.

 

Breaking out of his painful flashbacks, Keiji shifts his stare from the dim view of the window to the flame on the stove, heating up water in a kettle. There’s still a tense silence surrounding the two of them, the flame that used to burn every single part of Keiji blown out and dying down.

 

He wishes everything was still the same it was as from the years before, constellations fogging up his vision, flames searing and biting at his skin in the most pleasant way possible, and the cold only surrounding him and his space, not how it is presently, covering both him and Koutarou in a thick sheet of ice so cold that not even the sun’s fullest capacity could melt through it.

 

-

_ Everything in reverse _

_-_

 

Keiji sometimes wishes he could turn back time.

 

Go back to the moments where it was just Bokuto-san, nothing special or intimate. Unlike Koutarou, which brought the deepest clues of intimacy and importance.

 

To the moments where there was walking the same road home only to part ways at intersections, unlike walking at the end of the day to the same destination that, as each day passed, began feeling more like a house and less like a home.

 

Moments where they watched the stars fall, watched the fireworks burst, instead of the present where the tears fell like twinkling stars on their faces, felt like the unnecessary anger and vulgarity from the words they spoke burst like the fiercest kind fireworks show.

 

Sometimes he wishes that maybe in another world, he hadn’t let the fire consume him whole.

 

-

_ Where timing is kind to us _

-

 

Ten years.

 

The first year filled with innocence, hand holding and heads resting on shoulders, where every physical contact exchanged induced the reddest of cheeks. A year overflowing with purity and the brightest, yet safest type of flame igniting.

 

The second year, exploring and the same kind of touches, but with more want and more need. Touches involving intentions less innocent and dwindling on the sensual side. A year filled with trust, with shyness, and opening up to each other on a level that put fuel into the slowly growing flames.

 

The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth years. The happiest, the most comfortable and most indulgent years spent together, all in the safety of each other’s arms. The fire, a thing so bright and luminous that anyone who ever dared to take sight of it would be drawn into the magnificence of the blue, orange, and yellow dancing together.

 

The following years, seventh and eighth, the beginning of the downfall. Keiji and Koutarou’s love, at first, was like a great wine. Aging with excellence, gaining greatness as every year passed, until it didn’t. The fire grew and grew, prideful and bursting through every possible seam there was. It burned right through the love they shared, slithered right through the smallest holes in their bond and continued to burn everything they had into ashes.

 

The ninth, nothing but cold. The flame, nowhere to be seen.

 

And now, the tenth.

 

-

_ Maybe we would be alright _

-

 

Keiji and Koutarou promised each other the whole world, to conquer the stars and the sun and the moon and every single cosmo and universe they stumbled upon. Endless wishes and promises made under the covers, on the rooftops, in front of the altar.

 

There was always supposed to be hope for them, for a love like theirs was never supposed to be something that died down. Because with each other, it was easy. It was comforting, it was the perfect kind of balance.

 

But nothing is ever perfect.

 

Still, during the last days of the life of their love, Keiji had hope equivalent to a grain of rice. It’s not a crime to hold on to the promises made.

 

-

_ I put myself to blame _

_ I let you get away _

-

 

People always assumed that Keiji was the mediator to the endless emotions bound to Bokuto, that he was the force that brought Bokuto down back to earth when needed, or the force that raised him up, lifted him up when he was in one of the more upsetting moods.

 

Most of that was true, but not all of it.

 

Just as Keiji was the force that calmed or hyped Bokuto, Bokuto was his mediator as well. Being the one who drew him out of his head when he got too involved, the one who simplified all the unnecessary overanalyzing to bring him back down to where they were, be it a match or the upcoming final exams they had.

 

To put it simply, they both had strings to keep them together, attached to each other. When one was rising up to the clouds, the other pulled them back down. And it was just simply that.

 

But as time continued to pass, the more the flame started to engulf Keiji and his existence, he didn’t notice a spark creeping onto the string that held them together. It hit perfectly in the middle of it, a harmless spark flicking near, until the spark grew larger into something like a flame from a lighter, day by day burning the only thing that kept them together.

 

It’s his fault, really. If he hadn’t let himself be consumed by the overwhelming feeling, by the flames that gave him life, then maybe it wouldn’t have come to this point.

 

-

_ TIming’s so cruel to us _

_ I don’t know how to be alright _

-

 

“I told you to stop, Keiji.”

 

It hurts. Like a lightning bolt striking him straight to the chest. Like a drop of hot oil hitting his arm.

 

“We can’t keep coming back to this, again and again. I’m not just something you can come to when you feel like nothing,” Koutarou’s presence overwhelms him, the words coming out feeling like ice shards.

 

“You aren’t the only one hurt.”

 

It’s December, the winter blues affecting him as it does every year, cold seeping through his bones and his clothes, the ice making its way around his existence. It’s December, and they’re supposed to be okay, because it’s Keiji’s birthday soon, and winter is Koutarou’s favorite season and it shouldn’t hurt as much as it’s hurting the both of them.

 

Keiji rethinks his life choices, his life itself, how he thought everything was supposed to be done by him, how every choice was supposed to be for the good of Koutarou. He once never thought of himself, but only thought of wanting to keep the flame surrounding him brighter and bolder. But he never thought of it backfiring against him, for it to be the reason why he bursts into the iciest flames.

 

He doesn’t fail to notice the way Koutarou leaves, hands shaking and scarf on his neck. Koutarou never wears scarves, only because he intends to come back, that’s always how it’s been.

 

But, Keiji laughs bitterly to himself, it hasn’t been like that for the past year. Koutarou leaves, and Keiji knows he has no intentions of coming back.

 

-

_ Don’t want to live in a world where you are not mine _

-

 

The tenth year.

 

It’s a year that shouldn’t even be counted as one they spent together, as it only consists of them spending time together fighting. Being with each other, but instead of the loving flame that has kept them sane all these years, there’s only walls of ice crystalizing themselves in the presence of the two.

 

Keiji loses all his purpose, not by choice, not by want, but because of the smallest mistake in his perfect life plan.

 

Koutarou doesn’t lose anything. Koutarou takes his things, he takes the scarves, he takes his half of the owls they’ve grown to collect over the years, he takes his chipped mug from the cabinets along with his favored brand of hot chocolate that Keiji used to despise but now misses. Koutarou takes everything with him, even the remnants of Keiji’s soul that’s been slowly binded with him over the years.

 

Winter may be the most uncomfortable season of the year, all negative temperatures and layers upon layers of clothing. But nothing beats the loss of warmth in Keiji’s life, the shards of the walls he’s built over the years leaving open, bleeding wounds in his heart.

 

The alarm clock beeps. It’s 12:00 AM.

 

He smiles hollowly. 

 

_ Happy birthday, Keiji. _

 

He wishes for a replay of the past ten years, but not for Koutarou to come back. For his birthday, he wishes that the Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou in another universe keeps their ices and flames balanced.

 

In a parallel universe, maybe everything would be alright.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I worked on this for like... a whole week. ANYWAY! Here's my very late entry for 4/5! Happy late BokuAka day, here's some angst and pain.
> 
> I admit this isn't my best work, I could do better, but to be fair I did cry a handful of times while writing this. It isn't supposed to hurt this much LOL
> 
> Anyway, please leave kudos and comment what you thought while reading! Than you so much for taking the time to read this. I very much appreciate it.


End file.
